girl’s gone by dawn

girl gone by dawn

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another poem? woman screamed
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explosion

“explosion” – mixed media on foam board

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diary entry

diary entry

“Dear Diary,
This evening has been difficult as any. I do not understand why this graciousness comes to me, as I do not feel I will be returning it.”

42 years old. Danish, from a 3rd generation family here in America. Just recently she lost her family.

After walking close to four miles she has become frustrated with what she now believes to be, possibly, irrationale. Her thinking is that she is without a way to be alive. At the gas station she watches out the front glass window, sipping a Styrofoam cup with coffee in it. The overcast day is more excitement – especially with the gray hue – than drear. There is a fair amount of traffic stopping in; many people glance at her ignorantly, politely, indifferently, walking through the glass door to pay the cashier. Why does it rain? Boots of rubber for construction employees, business people prefer umbrellas, and commonly students are comfortable with a rain jacket. The rain is not bad she feels, and presumably she has never been in line with this thought before.
She is done with her coffee. She steps out into the afternoon and walks before she is approached by a gentleman stranger who says, “ma’am, I think you have the wrong idea about hitchhiking from here. How did you get here?” Her glancing response tells him that she is not sure of the situation. It tells the gentleman that she is lost and invites him to speak more personally. “Yes ma’am, it’s usually a problem in the city to get someone to pull over because of the traffic. I guess you’re using the highway?”
“Yes I am.”
“Well I am going to go inside to pay for my gas.” He didn’t say much but it was clear that it was personal. At the register he figured he should do more to find out her story if she was willing to offer one. If not he’d offer to help her.

“Ma’am,” he yelled as a projection to her; she was further towards the road. “Yes ma’am, if I could offer you any assistance I will take the time to do what I can.”
“Well, I am looking for a ride.”
“I understand, which way?”
A way was not her plan. She was going to leave here and go somewhere, a person not running from her life, but recovering. “I am going to go east.”
“Along I-10 … … … that is the interstate here.”
“Yes sir, along I-10 is what I would like.”
“Then I will take you to a place outside of town 11 miles from here. I think it is a good place and if you are not able to catch a ride from there they have a motel and also public showers. My car is over here.”
He had a truck. A nice truck. It had a toolbox in its bed and good solid tires for heavy-duty purposes. Inside it was only dirty from the use this truck was for. They rode out of the parking lot cautiously. It is difficult taking a left turn here. He was kind to turn the radio on to a calm country song and he waited for a chance to speak more to her. There were pairs of rubber boots behind the seats. His rear-view mirror had some mud on it, drying now with his defrost running. A bag of hamburger and french fries was not a smell she appreciated. And she knew the coffee she drank was going to force her to use the bathroom later and wandered and realized that a hitchhiker needs a restroom too.
His family was small, a young baby. He was a superintendent for a construction company from the southern part of the state, contracted to build the new exit ramp not far from the gas station where the two of them met. “I don’t enjoy the travel. Most of us are able to go home the weekends.”
“There is no one in town to do the work?”
“There are, but as important as capability is availability. More than likely the city was ready for the work to go ahead and no one here was available yet.
“For the most part I don’t leave home, but this job required me to.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah me too. My baby is fourteen months. She knows who I am but yet she changes every week. I wish I weren’t missing this part of her growing up.”
When will your work be completed?”
“It’s a four month project. My part lasts two months supposedly. So I guess in three to four weeks I will be done. Maybe a little over a month.”
He didn’t ask her questions.
She had never ridden with a stranger before. Although clients are not known they do not count as strangers. And the people she met in college at parties weren’t strangers either.
“Do you like my truck?”
“That question is odd but yes I guess I do.”
“It’s new. I drive my girl around in it. We put her car seat there in the back. It’s a family truck really, but I just asked you the question so we could talk about something. We will be at the exit I was telling you about in just a few miles, not the construction exit, I meant the motel exit I was telling you would be a good place to catch a ride. There will be a truck stop there. How far have you come?”
It made her think, this question. She was dealing with life, meaning, purpose, the point of it all, future, happiness, loneliness, friendship, family, death. All his question was was one referring to her travel distance. She had to answer the question with that respect.
“I have only come a very short distance. The gas station was a short distance from where I have spent my life. The gas station was my first stop – I have never hitchhiked before.”
“I hope that you are careful with everything.”
They were quiet again. The traffic had lessened since they left town. She agreed her hike would be better begun from here. She didn’t recognize the stop when they pulled in although many times she had come up this way to visit her friends and clients.
“Ma’am, if there is anything I can offer you I wouldn’t mind. For instance you may want some insurance money for the motel. You know you may have to stay here for a night or two.”
She said no sir, that she was in good position to take care of emergency expenses. They said goodbye to each other. She looked around the parking lot, decided to go pee, and that was that. She was moving herself without anyone in her world knowing that she had left. She was moving herself. It was complicated and there were uncertainties but peeing was easy. She looked at the truck stop and moved on.
Her thumb was clean, manicured on occasion in celebration of life. Her husband had kissed her hands before; her children had held them.

Sunshine was coming through breaks in the gray hue, more so to the east. A spaceship came down and picked her up, and carried her to a trailer park not far away. She got a look inside at her mental condition over the next four years, being a cat friendly woman living alone in unit 818. Her neighbors refrained from speaking to her much. The fact that she had parachuted into the neighborhood from a spaceship had been too much for most of them.

Seven hundred thirty eight trailers plus nearly 200 lots which were empty. The streets were not bad. Pot holes were fixed. A crew of three trucks, a couple of tractors, and several hired hands maintained the property.
Rusting bicycles squeaking in the streets, pedaling side by side with young friendly kids on better bicycles. Yards upon yards, by lot by lot by lot far stretching for acres all the way to the trailer lot she lived at. Her attractive little garden was worked. The spaceship would fly overhead occasionally without regards to the time being night or day.

pictureband – tv antenna/foot/explosion

testing pinterest …

tv antenna/foot/explosion – mixed

explosion

tv antenna

flag

crap full of rhyme

In the winter of ’74

there was a great blizzard and a war

amongst the higher-ups and lower-downs

that led to treaties and … … zowns

but my watchface smiles in a way better than then

as when its rotating around and around was stoic and its face was grim

For today one level, one terrace, one storie, one mind

one community, one afuzziomity, one ablubluomNity, one bind

keeping us all together.

1min clip from … ‘double barrel shotgun’

from ‘double barrel shotgun’ … 04 21 13 … 03:12-04:12

a first-hand account of the pulitzer (adult content)

The beatniks were popular in the 1950’s; I met them all; they were boring; most of them did not know their alphabet; I had to teach them their ABC’s: ‘a’ goddamnit, ‘b’ you stupid motherfucker, ‘c’ you yagged boozer, …; They didn’t learn!

most of them were over-rated; two of them could not even go up one flight of stairs without getting winded; can you imagine that? how can you write prose if you can’t get to the top of a flight of steps without losing your breath; it’s just stupid; it’s just ridiculous; it’s just hard to believe; it’s just rough and rocky traveling!

I hate the beatniks; I murdered them; I killed them; I told them “wswerfweR”; two of them did not have automobiles but instead some prose!

girl’s gone by dawn

girl gone by dawn

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art sux … read a poem: woman screamed
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field … 05

field … 03

sunday rider

Lips that are fat … nice on motorcycle riders that wear whips in their hair, grow grass in the front yard, in the back yard;

meadow fresh full of children

me and all these children
– we’re running around in freakin circles
– and the autumn air is correctly fresh

there is no game that we are playing
these freakin kids don’t realize that
we’re supposed to have a goal
– to have a challenge
– to have a standoff of some sort

they just run and laugh like freakin idiots
I get caught up in it
– the madness of it
– O’ my shoes get stupid grass stains

a story about a sponge

“How’s the sponge … ?”

“It’s working.”

untitled, 261

it’s freezing
the chairs are sticking
the stores are dark
the windows are broken
the noise is watching

the food is gross
the values are inflated
the exchanges are serious
it’s only early
we wont make it

it’s sad about the newsman
it opens our eyes to see his darkness
it’s only evening, the songs are chants
we wont make it, it’s freezing to ask

the pillars are old
the ideas are weak
the stains are seated
the hills are so far
the place is dangerous

the uppercase dee

It was a trash-talkin idea. But it had scope even so. The tunnel was well known everywhere in the area: it was very long, probably 2 and a half kilometers, and as soon as you come out you’re on a bridge that’s almost surely way way high, with concrete columns that I bet are too tall and about to break one day snap.

The Darkness with the uppercase dee had surrounded the boy and his dog. They were hopeless now and it was best to give up. The boy, near 26,27 years old, loaded him own self and his dog into his car and headed to that tunnel. The idea was to enter it at a moderate speed and then open the liquor bottle and drink before reaching the exit end of the tunnel, and so surely by then he would be tossed fully. Once out and onto the bridge, he would slowly pull the car over to the side of the road, up against the guard rail. Drunk, he would get him and his dog, on a leash, out of the car, being careful to not get sideswiped by fast passing cars, and walk over to the edge and jump down. It’s hard to know if the boy would have comforted his dog as they were falling.

for instance, 1

for instance, 2

for instance, 5

for instance, 3

foot

Rockdannabee

Rockdannabee came to the windowsill quietly, her
cup of coffee spilt in her hair
And, like trice before, she sang-
though being her tune was out of key
reminded me of the housekeeper.
Feverishly, she in the bedroom kept jewelry
with montagues of perspiration
Alas at night when it was
at the stories’ ending goodbyes,
Rockdannabee gave in and struggled to paint
her cries

found nude in manhatten

I spent probably more energy
than was necessary aiming
the shower head at the gnat in the room.

– Because the gnat had been born a flier
he used
various flying techniques to get away,

and eventually I stopped
using the shower nozzle
as a weapon
against
the gnat, and chose rather
to jump from the rusty fire escape

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unique POEM: a tribute to Vasquez Cubador, a ponderous man created as a subject of this epiD
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chickens to the left, cows and pigs to the right

during the years the communist
regimes got run over, golden autumn
leaves fell glistening like moonbeams upon
ponds reflecting and filled by swine
and cow ex crements
– the communists didn’t let
their chickens use the same ponds

the ponds were monitored, practices were in place
– chicken
excrements were used differently

long gone the golden years…
the blues be crafted yea, sung by
folk people commentating the
confusing revision of their traditional songs

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you might enjoy this: review of the movie Shawshank Redemption by lisa alcatraz
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the angels will adapt

once the morning drew curly squares
the angels cleverly took the chance to bounce on the rounded
sides (for surely they will be
made straight tomorrow)
Pens can draw tractors and moms
and it can all be distinguished or unknown;
similar shapes, variations of
colors adopted eagerly,
pushed by hands
and on hands too
and visited again and adapted so often
– Adaptations the angels will know:
a movement, a stand, a forest for
walking, house, bulldozer, dog, bicycle
an expression, story
hand turkeys, airplanes

watchin for whiskers

there’s plenty of animals
that look like animals
they’re not hard to identify
just take a look

just take a look
to identify the animal type features
see if you see whiskers
that would tell you

don’t be reluctant to go beyond whiskers
there are other things
see its entirety

apple juice

I am still trying to figure out what to do with the apple juice part. I don’t know what to do with it. I am convinced that somehow ‘apple juice’ is supposed to be a part of this thing.
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read more: cornmeal
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blood thirsty breakdown

the bird was ignorant
    it had only learned things from
        its mother and from
        other birds
all of whom were ignorant, only having
    learned from one another … and
    their mothers

so the expectations are setup –
    I: think the bird is too ignorant
    the bird: is too ignorant to have
                    expectations.

every time the earth spins
the
bird and I dispute the time of day

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wanna read a short story … it’s good: the floating arm
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you walked in through the woods

you walked in through the woods
each of your steps crunched leaves
each of your steps crunched wildberries
some of your ideas crunched
balance among us. To ol’ wood you
think you be in sport with,
conversating.

you walked in through the woods. Among us we
say, “here comes a diplomat, like a saint
with smelly hands. See the skins of
berries in the cleats of his shoes.”

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eat this: the words of corn
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commanchees twelve o-clock

I think beneath that bush
there are two commanchee indians
blending into the leaves of it, the bush,

watching me eat this taco for my snack

it’s not a chocolate chip cookie
it’s not a bowl of ice cream with some good syrup
it’s not pudding
it’s not those nutter butters and I don’t have milk
it’s not a betty crocker cake and icing
it’s not a lot of oreos
it’s not popcorn
it’s not brownies

I’m eating the taco without any fillings
it’s just a shell
and I don’t have any coke

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enjoy another poem: cupboard ground coffee
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I wanted new knives … edit: version-02

well, … .naw, not really bad I guess for a
death bed
I never been in one until this one
now, so
I’s

not sure what to expect,
but this isn’t really bad …
it has wheels …
it’s the first one I’ve been in that’s got wheels

But … … yeah, the one thing
that I
always had
imagined I’d do would be to buy a
whole set of new kitchen knives but
it never did work
out that way

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there’s a newer version, version-03: I wanted new knives … June 3
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hot cobbler smarts

there’s much harassment left
over from the peach eating
sunday weekend
grandma cooked,
she put gravy on the peeled
and a glass of tea sweet like
the Southern air and wildlife,
I ate cobbler, drank the tea
.
everybody got along fine and took
quick moments home with cameras,
developed back then
.
yep, everybody got along

woman screamed

she screamed. she screamed
so loud: “aaahahaahaahahhahhahahhhhhhahhhaaaaaahhhhhhahhhhh”

I mean you can hear it, right, by all the letters that I put in the word
I mean you can hear those letters
can’t you, the letters represent her scream

.said “don’t use that glass that is on the counter
aaahahaahaahahhahhahahhhhhhahhhaaaaaahhhhhhahhhhh.
I drank my orange juice out of it this morning
I haven’t washed it
it’s been sitting on the counter all day
it is dirty”

ferocious children mock haikuist

a haikuist that
became estranged from his friends
said O no … please no

making love while eating mexican food

“that was one fine tamale”
“and that was one fine cigarette”

the woman and man had made love while eating mexican food

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visit little debbie oatmeal cookie if you would like to read more
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the indians are a part of the problem, true

the indians were outside the fort
there were 100’s of millions of them
they brought their catapults
and batterers to push down
our walls so they could enter
and maim

I told my wife
get the big gun
she was bitter that I had told her what to do
she told her friends that I was abusive
she was angry that I didn’t give her
a chance to decide on her own

it’s not sad that we died
it’s sad that we died beside one another

tie onto the floor

the deliciousness of a juice

was

all the woman needed to
bring the child’s friends and birthday party
to a place and way she

       had hoped    from her childhood
that
her
kids
would one day have … bicycles and
            tracking MUD
             through the kitchen, and
         her
            husband throwing his tie onto the

            floor, wrestling the kids, throwing
       baseballs with the kids
                            ( not yelling because
                                         of
                                         shattered windows)

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please visit my blog, little debbie oatmeal cookie if you have time for more.
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old wore time

it was my years sowin oats I
made all my money
sumtimes I got paid checks twice on fridays
… it was my alpha personality Ruff!

… the girls,
but I
shouldn’t talk about that here

Things just get older when you move slower
That’s the way tIme works
Rheumatism, bloody feet –

WAIT! hammer time
oh we could dance
the girls would dance around us snapping their
fingers high up in the air. Fruits! (laughing
to myself)

oh we could dance
but
we had the money. …. the shooes.
we’d buy drinks, spill darts in the beer

not my barn, leave me alone

it’s been a while
since the old days got dogged by death
guitar strings flappin the car door
leavin scratches at a 120 miles ph

“fast,” you yelled, “round the curve!”
girls hair kickin their clasps, ponytails spraying
doom doom doom doom doom
it’s been a while since we rubbered the wheels unto the curb
hitting barns and chickens in the field

they finished their dinner later

good heavens

said joe

Dinner was served on the table

the graft was more than it should have been

everyone continued to eat through several conversations

no one whistled.
because that would’ve been not right.

they finished their dinner later

8 heathers

8 heathers lost their eyesight on a
weekly radio show –

it was not a talk
radio show I must say
but
a complicated art performance whereby
personalities
heralded
brush strokes and glue.

And that was why everyone cried –
because who could use the glue
because who could pull the oil
as
on the air there were heathers, 8 I tell you…

advancement came to the welsh

advancement came to the welsh
from a staging post beyond
a green meadow’s edge

where
trees and a bog
tested
swordsmen,

woodsmen,
makers of crafts. But
the welsh made forward through the difficulties,
and the … … are the welsh the same as the irish

I had an under garment

Because of time
I went ahead and got rid of that old pair of underwear

they had been around for awhile
bought some years back

they had had holes in the threads
even back before more than a year but now
it was actually tuff to work them up
– they’d rip just a little bit if I’s
not slow and easy pullin

It’s not to be so much a surprise
about how long I’d had them
    sometimes it’s just hard to get
    around to gettin those kinds of
    things Now
it’s time to go on and put them
in the garbage bin

I’m not sure about tomorrow though
not sure what I’ll do
hopefully I’ll get around to gettin another
pair sometime pretty soon

my woman

today was a great day.
I went to
the

store to get a couple
of
beers. The 3 or 4 ladies that work
there were there. That’s all it needs.
It’s a small store in a little neighborhood.
A good writer could write
about those ladies
sure nuff

But one way or the other they’re
friends I’m sure. They’ve probably
been workin in there since when eden was
still whole-sellin vegetables and produce.

My woman been workin too, got paid today
so I’m celebratin
got me some beers
2 of them, generic. They’re warm. The
store saves itself some money by just
dry shelvin the generic beers.

brooks and moss

The sorrow (YIKES)
The sadness (OYKS)
The continuance (UH!)

…
I wrote that poem after a day searching and
hunting the al qaeda leader in caves behind
shrubs along the appalachian hills. (EMPTY
HANDED)

2 ju-ju beads though; A hippy girl away from
university on a saturday; Nice sounds of brooks
and moss splashing; cnn cameras continued to
follow me even though I told them the
search was a misguided hunch and wasn’t going
to give me any results. (TURN THE CAMERAS
OFF)

The drive home (TIRED)
The hippy chick in my lap (NAKED)
The rumor (HE GOT AWAY AGAIN)

big sounds at the fair

if you really want to understand a crash
    you have to
    pay focus to the
    sound
    of the crash

cause

that’s really where the power’s at
example one time this
old lady crashed and all the people in the grandstands
went OHHHW pretty much together
it was real loud and
of course
the old lady couldn’t survive that
It was just too loud in the crowd

but that’s how you do it
judge the crash damage by the sound
  I learned that when I was in
      physics
  when I was younger

review of the movie Shawshank Redemption by lisa alcatraz

the movie Shawshank Redemption

was a movie

it lasted a specific amount of time

you can use your stopwatch

to measure that time

it was a good movie

there were definitely characters in it

some of them were black some

of them were white

but they were all actors

I don’t recall any actresses

did you ever watch this movie shawshank redemption

did you think it was a good movie

do you recall any women in the movie

have seat

if yyou weree runninn around witthout nno place to go, I mean,

don’t liiie … what wwould a fool do??

sit on tthe couch yeah all right you come up wwith,

bbut that aint truue no no and I set youu straighht.. here’s why:

there is not a couch in this room

there is not a couch in that room

there is not a couch in aaany room

so don’t appproach the crowwd and the worlld that can L –

isten while believing and while trusting a half-felleened proverb

of ‘patience young friend, patience’

the words of corn

the words of corn are not oft wise

But there are

days deep beneath the sun

kalamazoo is a friend of mine

where girls dance for new

boots and hOpe of romance, knee high

and suede, because leather

wears out and loses its shine

“uuh tango … tango hunny: get me

the flyswatter would you, and be a deer.?”

melons and toast

I got computer monitors on top of the trash dump sittin out back; just lift them up and set them down yonder and you can have access to all the leftover material in the dumpster; you’ll see the things you like: broken futures, purple burgundy, blue-dead red time;

pause

Oh I don’t know what you say about electronics; my job is that of a seller; I don’t inter-mediate with opinions, flagrant notions, or jam and butter encouragement;

but, all that said, get what you need and clean up after yourself;

google Fritzgard

what’s the chance
that a bunch of punks will
go
to the old parking lot near the
bijou, collecting rocks

to force down the throat of a local governor
wailing about yavva

They might’ve read the
sign that rusted a decade
ago, with thumps from rocks
for generations:

it says no overnight parking and no
weapons or alcohol

it’s dark and it’s night and
they’re walking and they wear
bandannas and read Fritzgard like its a
bible. They pause when

a car with lights shining goes by, and then read
another chapter

toast boat 05

sitting wood-fresh at the day-strong table, flipping

catalog pages of dog trinkets: sweaters and bell-shaped chew toys, on the

pasture deck straddling a windy delightful decision to finish

the season which began, and will finish, the way they do whenever they

translate, nicely, months and generations both;

the floating arm

“yup … he got him that way”

“…”

“hmm, water can burn you I guess”

“…”

“… was he with alone or had he had the company earlier in the evening”

“huh?!”

“…”, an agreement.

“…”

“I’ve heard he fried of the anxiety before he got the burn’t.”

“huh!”

“…”, an agreement.

“…”

They each then took some time to silence. No one spoke until the one finally had to acknowledge what that each one was afraid of:

“They say that the boiling water was carried in a aluminum pot”

“…”

“the arm carried it?”

“…”, an agreement.

“huh.”

“…”

“did it drag upright, from its elbow, and that would be how it carried the pot of water!?”

“…”

Their fear is deterring the acknowledgment.

“…”

“The arm came floatin’.

“around the corner at up about 4 ½ foot…”

“… some say it could’ve been more alike 5 ½ or 6 foot up …”

“huh?!”

“…”

“…”, a good many of all ‘em gave an agreement.

“…”

“What he do when the arm went to dumpin’ that water into the tub”

“…nah, no one can know that for certain – I would’ve stood up quick as hell!”

“…”

“… that way the water would’ve only burnt your feet wouldn’t it have?!”

“…”

“Yeah”

“…”

“Uh-huh – … … that’s most likely the best way to defend the arm’s water torture”

“most say that’s probably what he did do.”

“…”

“- what – …… – ummm … … what about what happened to the rest of the man in the bathtub…”

“What abouT the rest of the man in the bathtub?!”

“…”

“ how? the rest of him fry ”

“…”

The dangerous question made everything tense again.

“…”

“… what! was he doin’ in the tub?”

“…”

“they say he was washin’ the dead skin off his soul…”

“then the arm fried him with boiling water?…”

“…his feet and ankles at least; his own anxiety might have fried the rest of him.”

The little boys screamed. And the campfire burned merrily merrily merrily all night long.

sand

come on,
    you gotta admit –
            if you’re gonna get killed, then
              dyin on a motorcycle when you’re
              flying like hell is
              pretty
              cool

or gettin eaten by a grizzly bear … or
a lion

or a shark, like a great white mainly;
any of the great beasts really

the soul don’t spit

how long is the road

the road, what road

how deep is the pit

the pit, what trench

how curvey is the soul

the soul! the soul don’t spit

how sandy is the coast, how sandy …

O’ the coast, what a coast …

how turbulent are jets?
how uncomfortable are small spaces?

small spaces, what seats

how indeed is this it
how indeed is this it …

mrs. zimmerman’s saffron

me and my brother donny used to run in the summertime. it

was good, the smell of air
and little old mrs. zimmerman’s potted saffron on her porch.

donny would knock on her door and talk a hundred miles an hour; he would tell her

about catching crayfish down in the creeks and sexual couples behind the skating rink.
( old lady mrs. zimmerman liked his stories I believe but that one )

.
.
.
I guess I was too young
to know for sure, but I have a feeling that
she had lost the man in her life;

she never said as much to donny but herself talked about

the sock hops and the elvis and the being so special that she got to go behind the

soda fountain where the soda jerk poured smiles and syrups.

mucked and coated with window glue

  frozen
                    aloft a boat
               aloft where-withallness
aloft a dimestory, a cinch for
Eddie, but a spear in the knee for
another man,

groping the bitches and
quoting the whew ha, clowning with
Ellen, her sweet
    tall
      spikey
        high heels visually
challenging the lucky drab, mucked and coated
with window glue

wreckage in the flatland below

wreckage debris lain in
blocks and girders long, dusts of
cements settled upon

… and we did not discuss it

A glass window in a trailer
looked out upon the wreckage and
God sat up there. I finally

tatted on the pane glass

“Lord, my credibility has no value
and my self is questionable. But I feel
I have cleaned up the so many little cracks that
foreshadowed this
ALONE, and now years gone by.
please say that I can stand reasonably
and decent, humble, and yet expect her to do her
part
finally, that it will again stand
and it will smell like her and…” God interrupted: ‘You’re
being a bit melodramatic there, aren’t you boy!’

And I said, “Dude?!” At that point God
ran his hand through the pane glass
and smacked his open palm hand flat into
the fore-nose of my face, leaving it ugly
like the wreckage in the flatland below

next door we may be an ass

Some Mennonites moved in next door and warmingly offered
a pound of asian rice to me and my family
I told them they were stupid for giving away their rice
of course they said they were sorry and they offered
an australian pear to me and my family
I told them they were stupid for giving away their pear
in return they, being so kind, gave me a regret for my distress and a freshly baked bread
I explained how stupid they were.

because they were such good people they
said they were sorry and
they offered to me and my family a sack of peruvian potatoes
and a pail of milk with flakes of utter skin
I looked at them into their beady eyes and told them
that they were unrealistic, stupid, and unwelcome
in my neighborhood
for their behavior was out of touch with the reality that
I wish for my family to adhere to
they felt horrible and gave me two cuts of London Broil
I told them they were stupid for giving away their steaks
of course they said they were sorry and they offered
apples, raisins, and canadian granola
I told them they were stupid, knowing what I knew

my old man’s successful restaurant

my momma walked: she looked
– she started
but then she stopped

walked
but so wondering

from the front room
she
could see the big ole house
      – the whole of it
      – the small ported areas that are quelled behind the bigger rooms
  all of it

I don’t know where all of the money comes from …
who eats so much giblets anyway
our restaurant’s front counter is crowded with eaters
like they ain’t got no damn giblets of their own
  tucked in reynolds wrap in their own personal freezer boxes where
    ice cubes do just fine at their own homes
      in nice neighborhoods and with vegetable gardens that are so alive

I heard daddy say, ‘we need more rooms!’
oh come on now how many rooms do we need?
Stop at four or five
    ( but maybe several bathrooms …
        little jenny bullshits for hours every morning
        curling her hair and looking at her girl nose )
see we don’t need any more rooms,
tell these people to quit eating so much giblets
    ( but they are fantastic when they are breaded
        with a little rosemary and onion, maybe a spit of
        worcestershire sauce and a slight drip of olive oil, dark )

tables

furthermore
    the frantic people live on rice
        walking fast
    eatin ducks
killin hoards of loaves
of tadpoles and clothes
on lines of dryers in heat
in waves, obedient, dosed
    closed

but
    the farmer raises pigs
        drinks beer
    plows
has a table
and guests

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..>>
…………………………………………………………………. more mega poetry yahoo ..>>

hearing the ringing of bells

the old man

was brutally cruel to the robot

florida has toilets

florida has toilets and
europe has toilets – you’d think
they’d be about the same:
-design-wise
-functionality-wise

the sweet spot oN european toilets
is more difficult to find, but produces
a much nicer tone

it’s funny that europe and florida
have different toilets, them being
just toilets and so on

a sweet spot is a place in the
toilet to where a gentleman urinates, such
that splashback and sound are minimized
like swimmer smooth diver

The Parties Blast Each Other God Damnit

for 4 weeks me and the Lucy’s
had a contentious relationship

arguing over the minor critical details
of job growth vs flower growth

my emotions were like sacred ground
of which tomahawk throwing Indians screamed

but the Lucy’s, violent with their
limited foresight, swore swore swore

the rain storm came just when
we needed, cause the throwdown was on

finally, hand reading explained

the other day my
grandmother said to me:
‘boy
I known you since
you got born from
the legs of my daughter
( that seemed too graphic, grandma )
but I don’t know who you
really are’

Johnny heads to the tracks

Johnny, you should know, was 18. Back
then he wasn’t called JD, but Joe D. He
got that nickname by the cops that
interrogated him: “you want to see what we got? … ‘
Hit the play button’ … you didn’t think you’s
being watched did ya there Mr JD?”

He had been sauntering up to the tracks
ever so coy-like. That’s what got the video watchin
seargent to notice back then: the coy-ness. The
cops hit the chase and used
lights to get him up from his lying down
peaceful spot, and when the cops found his
cargo van in the empty lot nearby, they wasn’t
gonna go lightly on him.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..
……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

cornmeal

give the dog somethin, mister
the dogs are accredited with walking
off the chickens that ate your corn
meal in the woods yonder

and even so, mister, I suggest
that you have a talk with your
accountant about
storing your cornmeal in the woods

did I tell you that I
knew an Indian lawyer who’s
been accredited with
howlin’ at the moon

young man your shoulders ought be up

quartz from the factory
    ( swept up in a blanket by
      an old lady, maybe 120 years
      old and working here since
      tuberculosis was inoculated during
      post war modernity )
weighted the boy’s faith, hooking
the glare of his eye by a rural barb
and mashing his arches

the breaking of man

the quasi note displayed
on front of the chamber

was being promoted,
spelled really,
by people only apt at working the
dead stiffs, and others only
ready for the tambourine

empty though I be, I stood
from my rowth balcony seat. Remembering
my past I realized that
not who cares if the note be quasi
and if they who present it be not ok
to present even quasi things, and
quietly I just sat back down

our leaves were there

my soil breached the earth
humba ra
no, my shovel dug into the dirt
humba ra
our leaves were there, those
from last year, all turned over
and wet and breaking like
the sands of time
humba what … the sands of time
humba no: like
hallowed ground
no NO no: like a pain to a
mother’s birthing and a calf to go
up for the first time
humba yeah
yeah yeah

belovedness.crew.

TAKE I for the haul mule
don’t work the haul
mule so as it
strains to put on
digging feet and crutches
along side the tractor, aching
by its work of dirt plowing

TAKE II for the haul mule
– yesterday: wet dragging lump
– today : glorified dignified lump

the pidgeon tells stories

so I was talkin to a pidgeon and he said Hey and I said yeah? and he said Hey Hey and I said yeah? and he said Hey Hey and I said yeah? and he said Hey and I said yeah?

Not much of a conversation, I know, but it was a pidgeon, whahw whohww

hear good voices

after the contestants
rode through and
carrying their various ribbons and water
bottles, the sunny

spring wet that covered
the tulips lifted, songs in cars nice on
radios … stations being usually fm except for
cars with old men. Moms cooked breakfast for
their boys and then

maybe around 11 there
was that day’s first phone ring, it
probably started something like this:
“(hear their voices)”. Some boys still
rode schwinns all the way till crickets n
frogs hoped around and houses were full
of people adjusting rabbit ear antennas and
gettin ready for bed

sons of daddies

seven weeks past the external sun quo nox

croatian rappers, young, fresh and gettin
money from their daddies, shaving

their heads at the mall,

sped their convertibles down the thug way
without
any
problems

desperate hungry families

a hladilnik is a
refrigerator in the english proper british smug word.

German: Kühltruhe
Italian: frigorifero
which is spanish for la nevera!

Language translations aside

that for those who
are full are un whelmed by
desperate hungry families so
unfamiliar with eemaxiquedd tastes of
meats and
chocolates, beers
and sauces for gravies,
sprinkles for salads and
garnishes for
turkeys, pitchers of juices
and leftovers with cheese

the key word was are